


Clarity

by NaturalAddict



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Almost the same as actual Buddhafield, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bill is the Master, Bill is the Teacher, Blow Jobs, Buddhafield, Dipper is very willing, Except Bill isn't human, M/M, Magical lube as lube, Or a (porn) actor, Or a dancer, Or a rapist, Porn With Plot, So he creates a cult, Young Bill just wants to play, more like plot with porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-03
Updated: 2017-02-03
Packaged: 2018-09-21 18:44:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9561920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NaturalAddict/pseuds/NaturalAddict
Summary: Bill looks up, blond locks concealing one of his eyes, light and the same unnaturally bright yellow as the irises. His hair is short but growing, contrasting with the pale skin. His full lips are curved in a smile and he licks them, robes the same vibrant colour, thin and loose but not nearly revealing enough. His legs are crossed, and he looks- Divine. But like he doesn't know why Dipper is here."Yes?"The boy keens.





	

It is slow, burning. Beautiful. 

The flame of the candles collectively flickers, and Dipper thinks they are unnecessary, but he won't complain because, even though he would have preferred full illumination, this is better than complete darkness. 

The room is smallish, and he quickly spots what he's looking for. The man sits there, looking patient and gentle and just amazing. Dipper swallows.

"Master?" 

Bill looks up, blond locks concealing one of his eyes, light and the same unnaturally bright yellow as the irises. His hair is short but growing, contrasting with the pale skin. His full lips are curved in a smile and he licks them, robes the same vibrant colour, thin and loose but not nearly revealing enough. His legs are crossed, and he looks- Divine. But like he doesn't know why Dipper is here.

"Yes?"

The boy keens.

"You called." He informs, quiet, looking down.

Bill hums pensively, and Dipper squirms under his gaze.

"Oh, I did." He taps his chin, smile still in place. "Didn't I?"

He makes a gesture with his hand and the boy steps forward, almost stumbling in his excitement. They both know he will do anything, but the Master tells him, just do whatever feels natural, and he drops to his knees. 

He registers a strange smell in the room, but it's not unpleasant, and he doubts it would have stopped him even if it were. He is eager to please, and as far as he can tell, Bill is eager to be pleased. He always is, really, and Dipper is perfectly content with this form of service. 

This is why he gets called here, for this; he wants it, bad. No one knows and so far he hasn't been asking questions. He wants to be the only one, so he tries his very best every time, and Bill's got to admit, it's very satisfying. 

Dipper knows more about Bill than any of the others, and sometimes that's a little scary for both of them.

"May I- Please..." 

Wide eyes look up at Bill, and he thinks a human form is far more agreeable than he originally thought. 

"Whatever feels natural." He repeats, a hint of amusement in his melodic voice.

Dipper puts his hands on the man's knees and spreads his legs apart, looking up again, this time in search of approval. Bill merely nods, undoing his robe before it is asked of him. He is wearing nothing underneath. 

His throne, as they call it, is separate from the rest of the room in a small altar of sorts, a big rustic wooden chair that is surprisingly comfortable, unlike the one they bring along when they're out. He glances at the bed, neatly made and standing out for being modest in the room filled with exotic decorations acquired in their many travels. Dipper follows the gaze, but lingers, and Bill has to use a hand to redirect the boy's attention. 

"Not yet." He says, and the disciple smiles, hands moving up his thighs and towards the sign of his growing arousal.

The touch is light at first, delicate but experienced. Bill doesn't protest, knowing what comes next. 

A timid lick, the flick of a warm tongue against the slit and then, Dipper is working the half erect member into his mouth. Bill's fingers tug at the brown hair, aware that Dipper likes this, and it's confirmed by a low whine. The boy kneads Bill's thighs and closes his eyes.

His rhythm falters, slows, and then quickens, head bobbing with distinct reverence.

Dipper is waiting for Bill to tell him to stop, but he doesn't, and the boy is caught off guard when he spends, thick stickiness hitting a supple throat.

There are many things he wants to say then, but he's distracted by a request of _swallow_ and he does so readily. The grip on his hair loosens before he is released completely. Bill looks at him with an inviting expression, and something within Dipper tells him to run away.

He jumps to his feet, bowing.

"Did I please you, Master?"

The answer doesn't come immediately, and the disciple runs through the whole thing in his head, searching for any mistakes he might've made.

"Yes." His thoughts are interrupted by a sweet voice. "You did well."

Bill recalls the first time they did something like this, how flustered Dipper had been then compared to his attitude now. He clears his throat and rids his head of pointless reminiscing, letting his eyes contemplate the bed again. 

The boy bites his lip and steps back, positioning himself like he wants to be the focus of Bill's gaze. The way he moves back towards the bed is like a seductive dance, the red dress he is wearing helping make the movements seem fluid. He sits down, and Bill follows, caressing Dipper's cheek. 

"Strip." 

He does, slow but not teasing, and waits until he is told to lie down on the bed. 

The kissing is a whim, he knows that, but that's no reason to stop it. If anything, the contact serves as a sort of distraction as he summons something that couldn't be found in this room - a small plastic bottle, popping open the cap. 

"How do you do that? You always-"

"Mm?"

Dipper shuts his mouth, half because of a slick finger pressing into him and half because of Bill's tone. The combination sends a shiver through his body and his cock twitches. 

The Master goes on after that as though there hadn't been an interruption, and Dipper feels relief. He doesn't want to do something wrong, something to make himself undesirable. 

Bill presses an uncharacteristic kiss to the boy's forehead and shakes his head.

"You're worrying about stupid things again."

It sounds different from usual, like Bill doesn't really care. Dipper lifts his hips to assist the Teacher, and gets a soft sound of approval and the slow insertion of another finger. 

As always, Bill takes his time, enough to make the boy impatient and leave him wondering if the man is doing it on purpose. He feels ready, he's done this before, but none of that makes much of a difference because the digits continue to move inside him, deep and with more tenderness than he wishes for. 

He's about to try saying something when they are pulled back, and his eyes immediately go to Bill. 

"Ready?" The man asks, and Dipper lets out a shaky breath, nodding. 

There is a brief pause as Bill reaches for the bottle again before finally,  _finally_ , they are connected.

Bill moves and Dipper doesn't, though he wants to. He is being touched and stimulated everywhere, and it's so hard to focus that he does't even register leaving Bill to do all the work. It feels better than good, better than anything else, and the only thing he can really do is breathe, erratically and with moans escaping his parted lips with every deep thrust. 

He arches when the Master reaches between them and strokes his length, hissing. 

The pleasure is suffocating, overwhelming. He doesn't want it to ever end.

An inconstant pace is part of why he just can't get desensitised no matter how often they do this - his body is never prepared for the next thrust as they vary in speed and intensity. That's what he thinks when he remembers these experiences on the nights he is alone, but now that he lies here beneath Bill, it seems much more complex than that, like it can't possibly be just that one thing. 

It is everything.

Everything Bill does, says, everything he is. 

He calls the man's name loudly as he climaxes, almost falling off the bed. He is caught and knows it has to be Bill, but doesn't feel an arm around him, and is quickly distracted by the Teacher's own orgasm, soiling his insides. 

It feels like... Like he can't think. It's a myriad of things being added up in his mind, and he can't stop it. 

They lay together, but there is a barrier between them. Dipper is, unexpectedly, the first to break the silence.

"You're... Not human, are you?"

Of course not. That's what makes him so entrancing, so... Powerful, enabling him to enthral a whole crowd and tend to each of their spiritual needs individually. It's what makes them take on a new name and abandon their old lives. It's why they are all so willing to believe what he said, approve of what he did, why the hypnotherapy sessions feel like a glimpse of something out of this world. 

Bill isn't human, and Dipper should never have realised that. 

The Master laughs, but it doesn't sound like he is just rejecting the notion. He exhales and the candles go out all at once, his yellow eyes shining brightly in the dark.

"You know kid, I've always thought you're too smart for your own good, kid." In a moment, he is straddling his disciple, clicking his tongue. His hands wrap around the delicate neck, and Dipper closes his eyes like he had done before, at his mercy. "Pity." Bill pouts. "I had fun playing with you."

"So it's true then? You...?"

The only answer is a grunt and he squeezes, hard, with no intention of stopping. The boy is saying something, but he doesn't care to listen, holding the precious life in his hands. It is his decision now, and whatever he chooses, no one will be able to stop it. He's a bit embarrassed for having let himself get too carried away, but mostly he feels anger.

Everything he had worked so hard for, his followers, his symbolic domain, it all slipped through his fingers now. He could feel it escaping him as life left the boy who has served - loved - him. Bill knows of many other ways of fixing the situation, ways that don't involve having to dispose of his group of handpicked pupils, but none of them seems satisfying without Dipper, and Dipper can't be allowed to live.

The most dangerous thing to him, he's learnt, are people who know too much.

And so, he keeps going, glancing at those beautiful eyes until there isn't anyone there to glance back.

**Author's Note:**

> I used "Dipper" instead of "Pine Tree" for his Buddhafield name  
> Who. Cares.


End file.
